Valhalla
by Zerrat
Summary: Bound by stone and sworn to endless war, the warriors sleep without dreams, and Cosmos regrets the necessity of their oaths. A tribute and a requiem to her victorious fallen.
1. Part One: Servitude

**Pairings and Characters:** No pairings, in this chapter there is Cosmos, mentions of Warrior of Light, Garland, the Emperor, Firion, Onion Knight, Cecil, Ceodore, Gilgamesh, Bartz and Terra.  
**Rating:** T (violence, character death, some swearing from Gilgamesh)  
**Word Count:** 3,590  
**Spoiler Warning:** Contains spoilers for Dissida, and some spoilers for Final Fantasies I, II, III, IV (+After Years), V and VI. Next chapter covers other main games and spinoffs too.

Inspired by SentinelBurrito's (known as Doctor Burrito on this site) 'The Cosmos Report'. For meta, discussion, prompt-fills, updates and previews, check out my LJ! Link's on my profile.

* * *

The empty hall was silent as the dead – which, Cosmos supposed, was only the right of it. Only the sound of the steadily running fountain reached her ears as she materialized in the center-most of her domain. The stone hall was darkened, chillingly like a crypt, filled with strange shapes in the darkness. It had been too long since she had been in here – too long since her Valkyrie had collected the souls of the worthy to this hall. For too long had the stones within the hall sat quietly, waiting for the end of days.

Cosmos gently lightened the stone hall, the torches lining the walls crackling to life with but a small nudge of her powers. She felt the tension leave her as she looked around the now brighter hall, a small smile curving her lips.

_Valhalla._ The place where only the most worthy of warrior's souls were taken, awaiting the final battle with Chaos. But even in the torchlight, the many statues that represented her beloved warriors were cold and still – nothing like what the legends said. No eternal battle, no food, no drinking. Just the cold embrace of stone and crystal and darkness, and the promise of eternal servitude until the final war was called.

She would be lying if she said she wasn't just a little bitter towards Chaos, for forcing her to do this to the bravest of warriors. For forcing those chosen to take part in war after war, forever and _ever-_

Following the events of the thirteenth war with Chaos, the God of Discord had been forced to retreat and heal – and it had been quiet for centuries after. Cosmos' world had begun to heal; her power began regenerating from the terrible agony of fading during the previous war, though victory had been hers.

At least it had been her choice. For Chaos, doubtless the pain of death had been excruciating – perhaps it still was. Cosmos remembered all too vividly the anguish of defeat in all the previous wars, of having her finest warriors ripped away from her by the machinations of Chaos' nightmarish and infinite army. But not this time, and for that she was thankful.

She approached the first of the many statues, laying her hand on his frozen stone arm, a half-hearted smile on her face.

Always the foremost and perhaps the most loyal of all her companions, the Warrior of Light was still crouched in a reverent bow. Clenched in his right fist was the legendary sword Excalibur, the ruby set into the hilt glimmering in the torchlight, while his left hand held something protectively to his chest.

Cosmos felt her smile become a little more genuine – the shard of glimmering blue crystal she'd entrusted to him was always held close to his heart, and the events of the thirteenth war had done nothing to change that. She felt glad of that. The Warrior of Light had been by her side since the very beginning, since the very first war with Chaos-

_The Warrior flashed her a daring smile, still the rash and impulsive young fighter her Valkyrie had snatched up from his home world. He'd take Garland easily, he'd told her confidently. After all, hadn't he done it before? Hadn't he destroyed the corrupt Knight and Chaos himself?_

_Not long after he'd reassured Cosmos of his skills, he was slain by Chaos' Garland. The brutality of the young man's death had only been a sign of the violence to come._

Since that First War, though, the Warrior had only increased in skill and wisdom, rising until he became only the logical contender to defeat the incredible warrior Garland, the foremost of Chaos' followers. Cosmos stared up at the Warrior's youthful face, feeling a sense of both gladness and bitterness, as she tried to take in every detail of his stone visage.

How did he feel, being trapped in a war between Gods for all eternity?

She removed her hand from his armoured forearm, walking the short distance to the next stone statue.

The Wild Rose Warrior had also been among the first to join her in her war against Chaos – perhaps since his world was in close proximity to the Warrior's own, they had been among the first to come into contact with Cosmos' rather questionable Valkyrie.

Dressed in a long cape and practically sprouting weapons from every angle, the Wild Rose Warrior was as skilled as he was powerful. Perhaps only beaten by the Final Aeon in raw strength, Cosmos had been drawn to the youth not because of his might, but because of the strength of his dreams. Unlike the Warrior of Light, however, he raised his sword boldly and swore deference to nobody as he held his glowing red crystal.

Perhaps that unyielding defiance was a result of sharing a world with Chaos' power-hungry Emperor Mateusm Palamecia.

_"My dream… is to see a world in which the wild rose can bloom freely."_

_The Goddess and the Wild Rose Warrior sat in companionable silence for a short while. They had few chances to speak frankly, as they did now, and Cosmos welcomed it._

_"And they could not, on your world?" she questioned, touching his forearm and looking into his hazel eyes._

_The Wild Rose Warrior's answering smile was wistful. "Not without the steepest of costs. The man I thought of as a brother was never the same… my friends were sacrificed. Was it ever worth it?"_

_Cosmos inclined her head._

_No further words were needed between the two._

The Wild Rose Warrior could be just as prickly as his namesake, but he was a good and honest man who could not help but follow his dreams with a ferocity that alarmed all but the Hero – even if some reincarnations could no longer recall what those dreams were, or the reason for his wish.

She looked back fondly on the Wild Rose Warrior as she moved on, stopping before the next stone structure in the line of many.

The youngest of his many comrades, the Onion Knight had often felt over his head during the eternal wars. Fearing the worst and knowing that against some of Chaos' fiends he stood no chance, the Onion Knight still fought as bravely for his friends in his realm as he had in life. She paused, brushing away few cobwebs that had formed between the onion helm and his hair. He was just a child, though…

Cosmos pursed her lips for a moment.

_"I really don't mind…" the Onion Knight trailed off, his eyes distant from the lie. Then he swallowed, staring at Cosmos, his eyes now brutal with honesty. "But some of these guys… they scare me. And I'm so alone…"_

_Cosmos nodded. She understood._

_"You fought the eternal darkness, did you not? When Xande summoned it to your world?" she questioned gently._

_"Yes, but- I had my friends with me then! What can I do now? I'm just a kid, I don't know what I can do against the Cloud of Darkness-"_

_Cosmos raised a hand gently to forestall more words. "You have your allies." She placed her hand on the armour over the Onion Knight's heart. "Right here."_

_Those eyes looked pained, as if she'd just said the most ridiculous thing he'd ever heard._

_"I'm not that stupid, you know," he groused, crossing his arms over his chest._

_She smiled indulgently, knowing that he would understand eventually._

_A week later, they found the body. If not for the onion helm, they would never have identified the Onion Knight's mangled remains as one of their own. For some reason, Kefka had always had a vendetta against the boy. _

Cosmos suddenly couldn't bear to look at his young face. How many times had he died for her, in this eternal war? The crystal she'd entrusted to him was so large he struggled to carry it in the one hand he had free, and the Onion Sword sheathed at his side. The torchlight made the faceted surface of the turquoise crystal glimmer. The Onion Knight, in all the wars following, could not help but feel the glimmer of cowardice, the urge to run from the legions of Chaos and live.

She never once blamed him for it.

The Lunar Knight had been a fearsome warrior from the world he'd originated. Fully knowing the lure of the darkness and the horrors it could wreak, he'd denied the power it had over him and turned to the light. As a paladin, he'd faced hatred incarnate down, and earned his world a respite. Not enough to save it from the war between chaos and harmony, Cosmos reminded herself bitterly. No matter how brave or incredible the exploit, it would never be enough…

Perhaps it was because of that lingering link to darkness, that her Valkyrie had chosen the Lunar Knight for one of her chosen. The Valkyrie really _did_ have a twisted sense of humour, after all. Vaguely, she wondered why she'd chosen the rift-hopper in the first place.

Here, he was sealed away forever as a paladin – proud, his silver hair blown back in the nonexistent breeze and the dark crystal lay by his feet. She still remembered his face twisted in agony. Once, the Lunar Knight's brother had betrayed Chaos for harmony – only to find the Emperor waiting to punish the treachery.

_"BROTHER!" the silver haired Lunarian screamed, as the man in black was ripped asunder by the Emperor's mines. He strained desperately against the bonds of the crest Mateus had trapped him in, his breath sounding desperate and sobbing._

_Cosmos reached out for her two warriors, unable to help them at all. If only she'd conserved a bit more energy, if only she had the strength to manifest one last time-_

_The Emperor covered his mouth, laughing cruelly. "How tragic. Your brother might have been a traitor, but rest assured. He'll suffer yet more deaths in these wars."_

_The Lunar Knight's eyes blazed as they shifted from the smoking ruins of the body, to the Emperor himself._

_"He was a better man than you could ever hope to be!" The Lightning Crest began to wear off, allowing the remaining Lunarian to climb to his feet. His hands trembled with rage as he gripped the haft of his glaive even tighter._

_The Emperor brandished his elegant staff – it was a tool useless for anything but magic. He could never hope to take the Lunar Knight physically, but with his immense magical power and strategic mind, he hardly needed to. _

_Cosmos stared after the Emperor as he glided away. Only Mateus would have ever had the arrogance to turn his back on an enraged paladin._

_"Why don't you go cool that hot head of yours?" The Emperor chuckled again, discretely placing a few invisible mines behind him as he walked away from the Cosmos Warrior. Cosmos wanted to shout a warning to the Lunar Knight as he charged after Mateus, changing glaive for Lightbringer- _

The Hero and the Zodiac Brave came across the destroyed bodies of the Lunarians not ten minutes later, and they'd been unable to believe the carnage that had been wrought.

Cosmos braced herself against the next stone figure before she could fall. There had been a reason she'd avoided Valhalla – and her chosen – for so long after the end of the thirteenth war.

The Star Son hadn't been a hero of the Lunar Knight's level, when her Valkyrie had visited their world on that fateful day. He'd been more modest, overshadowed by his father's vast achievements and had seemed like nothing out of the ordinary. Perhaps he'd just been lucky to have allies in high places. Perhaps not.

When she'd questioned her Valkyrie on his choice once more, and in an uncharacteristically serious moment, he'd told her gruffly,

"The light. It was so strong – at first I thought it was all from Mr. Paladin over there, but…" He trailed off into one of his ridiculously loud laughs. "What the hell am I saying, eh your Godliness? If I'm wrong about this kiddo, feel free to fire my ass. And I ain't wrong."

She was certainly used to his trash-talking and bravado, but the tone in his voice that time… it was different.

And in the end, it had been because of the Star Son's inner strength, and the bond with his father, that she had even won the Sixth War. It remained one of the very few times she'd defeated Chaos and his minions.

_The Star Son gripped his father's discarded Lightbringer sword, tears streaming silently down his face as he swung the blade down. A dull thunk, a groan – the final Chaos soldier died so easily. Even in her weakened state, Cosmos could feel that the Star Son believed that such a swift end had been too quick for Emperor Mateus Palamecia._

_Seeing the agony on the boy's face, she couldn't say she disagreed now. The Goddess of Harmony agreeing with the darkened thoughts of vengeance? Stranger things had happened._

_Minutes passed, as the boy stared down at his slain father's bloodied sword. Everything was silent, aside from the occasional sob as the Star Son grieved anew._

_Cosmos watched, unable to materialize to the boy and offer comfort, as her last remaining warrior shouldered the sword and turned towards Chaos' fiery domain._

_The determination in his eyes was almost too much for Cosmos to bear as he set off to settle the score with Chaos._

Gilgamesh had been right about him.

Speak of the devil… Cosmos thought as she approached the next warrior in the long line.

Hailing from the same world as the Valkyrie, the Adventurer had been a normal boy from the town of Lix, when a man riding on a meteor had completely changed his life. Cosmos' lips twitched into a smile. Even now, after all these years, it still seemed utterly improbable that the Adventurer would step forwards to fill the role of leadership after Galuf's death and tackle the Void and Exdeath – just as his father did long ago.

The Adventurer was staring down at the crystal shard cupped in both his hands, a grin across his face. As carefree in death and stone as he had been in life, he was among the few that Cosmos knew enjoyed the time spent with the others, considering it all to be fun and games. The glimmering red Brave Blade, thrust into the stone beside him, caught her eye.

_The Valkyrie was weary, she could see it now. The Void would wear down all those who traversed it in the end – should she be more surprised that Gilgamesh lasted as long as he had?_

_Her eyes widened as he roughly offered her the true weapons – the souls – of the warriors he'd collected. He was practically bristling with the terrible replicas he'd made of them, now. The fake Buster Sword, the imitation Brotherhood, the copy of Excalibur and Lightbringer and Ultima Weapon and so many others-_

_He nodded as she accepted the collected souls, knowing fully she'd infuse them in stone. Sentencing these people to eternal battle no longer bothered him._

_As he turned to head back into the Void, he paused beside the figure of the Adventurer._

_She could practically hear the cogs work in his head as he considered the statue of the boy_

_"Was a pretty cool guy. Doesn't afraid of anything and all that crap. Except heights."_

_Slowly, the red-cloaked man held out his hand, as if reaching out to take something from the air. The weapons on Gilgamesh's back flared once – and in his fist was a gleaming red blade. The Valkyrie belted out some laughter, before turning in a swirl of red back to Cosmos._

_"You give the Brave Blade to Bartz," he told her lightly, passing her the final sword._

_Cosmos looked down at it wordlessly, guessing at its properties. Gilgamesh's own powers…_

_"He ain't much of an apprentice without a decent sword, you know."_

_And with that, he vanished into the Rift again. _

As far as epic heroes went, the Godslayer's timidness and uncertainty made her a rather unlikely candidate for being one of Cosmos' own. In the interlude between the Sixth and Seventh Wars, while Chaos gnashed his teeth and his fiends gathered yet more power to throw as Cosmos, the Goddess of Harmony first met the girl who would, many times over, destroy her Goddess and her fellow warriors.

Like the gentle Lunar Knight, Cosmos had been surprised to learn of the immense power and dark past of the girl. With enough power to destroy the fallen god Kefka – a terrifying being that Chaos had dredged up from the depths of hell – she'd accepted the girl's soul and sword, and awaited the Seventh War within the silence of Order's Sanctuary.

Little did she know that the Godslayer's blood-soaked past as Kefka's mind-slave would return to haunt them all.

_The Onion Knight and the World's Enemy were travelling with the Godslayer, trying to locate the ever-elusive Dark King from the rubble of Midgar, when Kefka first reached out and seized her mind. Safe within her sanctum, Cosmos doubled over as she felt her 'ace in the hole' for the war explode in feral energy and bloodlust. There was so much of it, Cosmos' skin began to crawl. The ungodly power was so strong – Cosmos felt her heart begin to pound._

_Was she… afraid?_

_The Warrior of Light was beside her in an instant, supporting her as she staggered from her throne._

_"Cosmos!" he gasped. He knew fully that her power was waning during the final stage of this war. Then he felt the bloodlust hit him, sending him to one knee from the intensity._

_"Kefka has seized her mind!" Cosmos pushed herself up, staring at the distant and looming ruins of Midgar._

_The Warrior's eyes widened in dawning comprehension._

_"Cosmos. We must stop this!" he declared, and she agreed. They had to stop her, before everything was destroyed. Kefka was a fearsome puppeteer, sadistic and uncompromising. Her eyes moved to the Warrior, and she nodded once. She vanished in a teleportation spell before he could move to join her._

_When Cosmos arrived at the scene of the explosion, the scorched ShinRa building was alive with magic. Fire burned in a terrifying whirlwind around the ruined surface, lightning flashed, and parts of the rubble were covered in nasty looking hoarfrost. Cosmos doubled over as her magical strength fled her. She'd vastly underestimated the strength of her reserves, it would seem…_

_The Onion Knight and the World's Enemy both had their blades drawn, their bodies covered in cuts and burns, red scarves and capes ragged and streaked with soot. The World's Enemy's left arm looked dislocated at the shoulder, hanging uselessly by her side as their pair of them circled the fully-transformed esper warily. Both of them seemed to register her appearance, though neither looked her way._

_The Onion Knight was barely holding back his tears as he cast a half-hearted Firaga at his old friend. The Godslayer deflected the magical flames almost scornfully, before whipping in. The claws of her left hand clanged against the onion blade when he blocked. The World's Enemy shouted a warning, but Cosmos knew it was too late. Fire blazed forward from the Godslayer's other hand, scorching towards his eyes-_

_He stumbled backwards, screaming and clutching at his ruined face, unaware of how dangerously close to the edge he was-_

_"LUNETH!" the World's Enemy cried out, dashing for the boy before he could topple over the edge. Her fingers grazed his – just before he fell._

_The redhead was still staring after the fallen boy when, perhaps still possessing a sense of irony, the Godslayer blasted her down after him with a fully-charged thunder spell._

_In the silence following, the Godslayer turned to her new guest… her eyes grief-stricken._

_It was then that Cosmos felt it. There was still a part of the Godslayer that knew – that was aware of what she had done to those she'd called friends. The truth nearly broke Cosmos' heart._

_The last thing Cosmos remembered about the Seventh War was the esper's claws ripping through her fading avatar, the Warrior's pained shout as he arrived just seconds too late, the sensation of her troops being dragged back into cold stone… and Kefka's maddening laughter. _

That small amount of awareness hidden beneath layers of Kefka's control had driven Cosmos to distraction in all the following wars. The Godslayer, given the right time and support, could throw off Chaos' control and help her allied Goddess once more. Cosmos was certain of it.

War after war passed, until Cosmos had nearly given up... until the Thirteenth War. There, the Godslayer had thrown off Kefka's attempts to invade her mind, and instead focused on a world in which the flowers bloomed. A free world. The Goddess noted the slightly prouder set to the girl's shoulders now, the small smile on her face as she held her crystal close.

Perhaps she had been wrong all those other times to throw the Godslayer into the fray, only to lose out to Chaos… but that smile on the esper's lips? It meant the world to Cosmos. Perhaps she did more than ruin the lives of her chosen, dooming them to eternal battle and agony.

* * *

A/N: Kudos to SentinelBurrito for the term 'Godslayer' - little did he know at the time that it would be so apt a description of Terra's bloody history in Dissidia.

In this chapter, we have the Warrior of Light, the Wild Rose Warrior (Firion), the Onion Knight (occasionally referred to as Luneth), the Lunar Knight (Cecil Harvey), the Star Son (Ceodore Harvey), the Adventurer (Bartz Klauser), and the Godslayer (Terra Branford), along with a mixed assortment of villains (both seen in the Thirteenth War and not) and mentions of heroes to come. Plus the spotty and unreliable flake of a Valkyrie that is Gilgamesh. Indeed, the Valkyries gathered the fallen einherjar to Valhalla, but these beings were female. What Gilgamesh doesn't know won't hurt him, though.

Stay watching for the next part of Valhalla: **Duty**.


	2. Part Two: Duty and Death

**Rating:** T (violence, character death, blood)  
**Word Count:** 4,748  
**Spoiler Warning:** Contains spoilers for Dissida, and spoilers for Final Fantasies VII (+Compilation titles), Mystic Quest, Tactics, Tactics Advance, Tactics A2, and VIII. Next chapter covers Final Fantasies IX, X(-2), XI, Unlimited, XII and XIII.

* * *

**Duty and Death**

Cosmos moved on from the stone likeness of the Godslayer, touching the tarnishing bronze plaque on the next statue. She smiled then as she read the name and title.

The False Champion had always been a bit of a black sheep of her warriors. A little awkward with those around him, the False Champion was often called 'the Warrior of Light version two' by some of the more light-hearted members of her army. His stone visage bore the fabled Aegis shield, a claw fastened to his gauntleted hand, and was brandishing his world's version of the holy blade Excalibur. Though a vastly different man to the Warrior of Light, she could see why warriors such as the Skylord or the Fleeting Dream wouldn't hesitate to point out the similarities.

The Crystal of Light rested against his feet, glimmering in the flickering torchlight. Perhaps it still guided him through his death, just as it had through his life? Sometimes she wondered how sentient her crystals had become, though they had originated as expressions of her magic and strength.

Though he had become a mighty fighter over the course of his journey, the False Champion had always been… easily fooled and lead into traps. It was something his eternal opponent, the Dark King, took into account each time they squared off against one another during the many cycles. Even back home in their lost world, the Dark King had created a false prophesy that the youth had fallen for and fulfilled, which had enabled the Dark King's plans to succeed. The plans were in vain; the False Champion, in spite of the terrible setback to his quest, slew the Dark King where he stood and restored light and hope to the world.

_The False Champion was leaning against a partially crumbled pillar, hidden in an alcove off to one side, as the Traveller, the Witch and the Skylord argued over which corridor they'd be going down next. His expression was a little pained as he heard the arguments getting more and more violent, the Witch loudly threatening – never dropping her usual rhymes – to curse both of them where they stood. Of course, that went over well with the two more head-strong members of their party. _

_Cosmos could have sworn she heard the Skylord threatening to give the Witch to the Fleeting Dream to use as a blitzball – as if to confirm her suspicions, the False Champion buried his face in his hands. _

_She stifled a short laugh, resting her hand on the knight's armoured shoulder. He was just so earnest and easily-read! It reminded her very much of the Warrior of Light, emotional and bold, back in his first war. The reminder of that carnage quickly quelled her laughter, though. _

_He smiled at her laughter. "The Dark King is still out there, Cosmos."_

_She waited for him to continue, attempting to ignore the brawl between allies that was about to break out behind her._

"_There's no way Shantotto finished him. He hasn't even brought out that creepy spider form yet." He shivered, his dark eyes now troubled. "I can't rest easy until he's dead at my feet. He knows this. He's waiting."_

_The Goddess of Harmony gave it a few second's thought. A rare flash of insight from the False Champion. Perhaps he was not as unaffected by the cycles of war as she'd hoped. _

"_Has he ever faced you on your own terms?" she asked him then._

_The False Champion shook his head, folding his arms across his chest and looking towards the Dark Tower in the distance. "Never. He sits, waiting in the shadows, and orchestrates things from afar. A spider, in more ways than one."_

_Cosmos nodded. "Be wary, Benjamin."_

The next warrior in the long procession of the dead was a man dressed in a crisp, dark suit. Older than many of his comrades, his face bore scars and a goatee that Cosmos remembered as being as streaked with silver as his dark hair had been. His mechanical arm – grafted on after he'd been involved in a terrible accident – bore various materia set in the knuckles and held a swirling Zirconaide materia crystal in the palm.

Often, the Turk had wondered why Cosmos had accepted him into the ranks of her warriors. Why choose a man that had been responsible for so much of his Planet's agony? Why, after all he'd sinned? Why?

"_Because you regret," Cosmos answered simply. "Because you want to right things."_

_Because you are the only one would has a chance at saving Elfé's soul, she wanted to say, but the words stuck in her throat. Her ruthlessness in these wars – in blatant psychological warfare against Chaos' chosen – sometimes astounded even her. _

_The Turk was quiet, perhaps lost in thought. Cosmos watched the man's weathered face closely, waiting for even a hint of weakness. If Gilgamesh had been wrong about this man, Chaos and his pawn would destroy him and render him useless in the coming wars. One failure would beget many, and it would snowball – much like the Godslayer's weakness had. Slowly, the grizzled man exhaled, striding to the edge of the building and staring out at the gutted remains of Oerba._

"_It's because of my daughter… isn't it?" the Turk said slowly, and he clasped his hands behind his back. Cosmos noted how the knuckles on his flesh hand went white. _

_The Hero had always told her that Turks were smart. Cosmos had never expected how true the Hero's words had been – for the Turk to have guessed so accurately what Elfé's choice had been – so early in the game – was nothing sort of astounding. _

_The bond between father and daughter was stronger than she thought. She stowed that information away for later, before nodding. Cosmos stood beside him, a hand laid gently on his shoulder. Below, she could see the encampment of the rag-tag group of heroes she'd summoned. _

"_Does this trouble you?" she asked softly. _

_The Turk laughed. It was an empty sound, full of bitterness and regret. It spoke of the same, cynical outlook that had driven him to ask, 'why'. _

"_Felicia is the last person I have left, and I'm to fight her. Why wouldn't that bother me?" His empty chuckles died abruptly, his eyes staring off north-east, beyond the Chaos Shrine and to where the Portal to Madness lay open. To where Elfé must be._

_There was a long moment of silence, but it seemed to galvanise the Turk._

"_Well, serving my employer is what a Turk does best. Maybe I can do it right this time."_

And serve was what he'd done. His experience, in spite of his aging body, had proven invaluable to her troops. Largely consisting of a gaggle of headstrong youths, the steady influence of a seasoned commander in their ranks had been a stabilizing influence, and had led to Cosmos' victory in the Ninth War. Among those the Turk had counted on and respected deeply, had been the Hero – an ex-SOLDIER who had crossed swords with both Sephiroth and Genesis and had lived to tell the tale.

The Hero had not always been a part of Cosmos' soldiers, though his dramatic entrance during the Fifth War had certainly cemented his place among their number. Always positive, and even in the face of confusion and despair, his stone likeness was smiling. In one gloved hand, he held an apple shaped from blue crystal.

"_Genesis used to call a lot of things 'the Gift of the Goddess'," the black-haired SOLDIER said, companionably, as he looked over the Shuyin Sphere and the Virgo Stone his comrades had attained. "S-cells, the Goddess Materia, the apples… then I figured, hey, maybe it isn't just one thing. So… I don't know. It could be anything."_

"_Many things could be considered important, if only you look at them in the right way," the Zodiac Brave murmured as he leaned against the crystal tree, his brown eyes thoughtful. He reflexively caught the Virgo Stone as his friend tossed it over carelessly, a frown creasing between his eyebrows. _

_The Gunslinger laughed as she grabbed her own crystal from the Hero before he had a chance to throw it to her. _

"_You should be more careful, Zack," she teased, wiping off the surface of the sphere with the corner of her skirt. "Cosmos wouldn't be terribly pleased with you if you broke her crystals, you know."_

"_What? I'm the very definition of careful!" the Hero crossed his arms over his chest indignantly, before he scratched the back of his neck. "But… you guys get what I'm saying, right? What the hell is my crystal? How can I find it, when I don't even know what it looks like? What do you think Cosmos would say?"_

" '_Find it in your heart, Zack. Find your path.' " the Gunslinger's voice took on a more mysterious tone as she attempted to mimic the Goddess. _

_Cosmos had to smile at the group's antics from where she materialized between the trees of Macalania Forest, her spirits higher than they'd been since the beginning of the Ninth War. _

Ultimately, the Hero's conflict with the warrior poet was not one to be solved with violence, but one best confronted with understanding. Cosmos supposed that Genesis had always been one of the more reluctant of Chaos' pawns, and was far more benign than the likes of Exdeath, Kefka, Cloud of Darkness or the Emperor.

She moved on. The case of the Cloudy Wolf was an interesting one, Cosmos had always thought as she looked up at his stone face. A friend of the Hero's from outside the cycles, the Valkyrie had initially overlooked the Cloudy Wolf's potential. A mere grunt from the army, who would have guessed that in watching his childhood hero burn his hometown to the ground, experiencing five years of experimentation and seeing his best friend die, that that mere grunt would become powerful enough to defeat Sephiroth every time they met in battle? In his arrogance, Sephiroth continually underestimated the warrior, opting to play with his prey rather than completing a quick execution. It was one of Sephiroth's fatal flaws.

Once freed from the chains of false memory had had ingrained themselves into his mind, the Cloudy Wolf had been a dominant force in Cosmos' army and his support was the reason the Godslayer held onto sanity during the Thirteenth War. Shorter and less powerfully built than the Hero, the Cloudy Wolf was garbed in black and bore the First Tsurugi, but occasionally bore the Buster Sword and SOLDIER uniform to honour the memory of the Hero.

_The Cloudy Wolf offered his hand to the Onion Knight, helping him to his feet as the Godslayer returned, victorious from her battle with Kefka. The three smiled at one another, a silent understanding and appreciation of thwarted demons passing between them. Courage and hope gave them strength._

"_You came back!" the Onion Knight said, pumping his fist. His enthusiasm caused the Godslayer to laugh and the Cloudy Wolf to ruffle his hair. In such a short time, the three had become such fast friends, Cosmos had to wonder why she'd never tried this combination before. _

"_You doubted her?" the Cloudy Wolf teased the Onion Knight, straightening and looking directly at the Godslayer. His glowing, mako eyes seemed to pierce the gloominess of Kefka's tower. "Good always prevail over evil in the end."_

_His voice was falsely light; Cosmos recalled what she knew of Gaia's history and knew why. Aerith Gainsborough, though she had sacrificed her life to summon Holy, had stood against Sephiroth's will and the Lifestream had lashed out against Meteor. _

_Even though the Cloudy Wolf had clearly put his past behind him, there was still a small seed of regret that would probably always remain. He would push forwards, for a dream he now shared with the Wild Rose Warrior and the Godslayer._

_A future in which fighting would no longer be necessary._

It was extremely odd for her Valkyrie to find more than one worthy soul in the history of a single planet. Stranger still was to find four heroes in such close proximity to one another – the Turk, the Hero, the Cloudy Wolf and the Chaotic Harbinger had all fought the darkness in the space of a few short years. Cosmos suspected Chaos' meddling, and continued reports of the presence of his fiend Jenova worried her.

The Chaotic Harbinger was a gaunt man, and the stone in which he slumbered did not reflect the vibrant red of his tattered cloak, nor the haunted look in his eyes. He had been instrumental in crisis after crisis, from the tragic events surrounding Sephiroth's birth, Meteorfall, to finally thwarting Omega WEAPON when all seemed lost. In this man, the touch of Chaos on Gaia was as clear as his monstrous transformations.

The Protomateria gleamed in his gauntleted hand, the final gift of a woman to her lost lover. While Cosmos considered Lucrecia to be a monster in her own right, as bad as Hojo and Hollander and intimately involved in the creation of Sephiroth, it was her gift and her legacy that kept the Chaotic Harbinger firmly grounded on the side of order. But that same strength – the iron-clad desire to atone for all the pain he'd caused – remained the Harbinger's greatest weakness.

_The Chaotic Harbinger's steps were quiet in the Airship Graveyard as he approached his enemy's location. His three-chambered Cerberus was loaded and ready, and to Cosmos' eyes he seemed hazy, flickering between himself and his twisted Chaos avatar. She would not lie – the form terrified her. She couldn't look away, though. The Chaotic Harbinger had been engaged in a running dogfight with the sorceress Ultimecia for some days now. He was exhausted from the extended use of Chaos and he was low on bullets. One way or another, Cosmos knew this conflict was going to end that day._

_Their battle had finally brought them to this tomb of airships. Prepared for even this outcome, the Harbinger had asked the Zodiac Brave sketch a rough map of the area. As the battle wore on, and went deeper into the crypts, even that scrap of paper had become useless. _

_The Chaotic Harbinger cautiously rounded the final corner, and trained his gun on the feathered back of Ultimecia, switching the safety off. Cosmos knew he would do whatever was required to atone for his sins. From her omniscient vantage point, Cosmos saw Ultimecia smile slightly as she turned-_

_-and was abruptly someone else. _

_A white laboratory coat, long brown hair caught in a high ponytail and wrapped in yellow ribbon, the woman was beautiful, but to Cosmos she was awful and twisted. Cosmos' breath caught in her throat, feeling his shock quake through him._

_That shock caused the Chaotic Harbinger to freeze for just a moment, but one moment was all it took for Lucrecia to flash forwards and embed her clawed hands into the Harbinger's heart. He went down without a word, as if he believed his death at 'Lucrecia's' hands was his due, his right. His atonement. Ultimecia extracted the Protomateria with a jerk, and the world dissolved in fire. _

The next was man in spiked, black armour, holding the Virgo Stone in one hand and the Chaos sword in the other. The Zodiac Brave had never wished to be a hero, Cosmos recalled, and only desired to do the right thing by the world – even if history would slander him and twist him into naught but a villain in a world of corruption. As the War of the Lions raged, the Zodiac Brave had stumbled across secrets regarding the Church of Glabados and fought head to head with the Lucavi. His desire to do right ultimately led to him halting the rebirth of the High Seraph Ultima.

But for all the Zodiac Brave's courage and determination, it was his tactical brilliance that saw him shining among Cosmos' chosen. A wily strategist with an eye for the strengths and weaknesses of those around him, it was he and the Turk that secured victory for Cosmos at the end of the Ninth war.

Things were never simple, however. His friend, Delita Heiral, continued to be a problem for the Zodiac Brave.

_The Zodiac Brave knelt in prayer at the ruins of the church, his lips moving soundlessly. After all he'd seen, in the endless wars and in life, Cosmos was surprised that the man would continue to go through the motions of faith. He raised his head at the sound of armour scraping on weathered stone, his hand reaching for his sword – he didn't relax when he saw who had visited him. _

"_Delita." One word managed to convey so much emotion, so much anguish at his old friend's choice. _

_The man wore gold armour, his dark hair slicked back from his face. A holy knight, allied with the most unholy of Gods. A man of contradictions and single-minded purpose. Cosmos watched him, wondering what lies Chaos had fed to him. A chance to turn back time? To save his sister from death? Or had it been something else that drove Delita Heiral to action?_

_Delita approached Ramza slowly, his eyes wary. "No further rebuke for my 'dishonourable' actions? Perhaps things do change, after all." A cold smile._

_The Zodiac Brave slowly climbed to his feet. "Chaos, Delita. You have sided with a madman, to elevate the desires of the select few and create needless suffering to all else! Do the ends justify the means? Are people naught but __**pawns **__to you?"_

_Delita was silent._

_"Answer me! Delita! I stood by and let you use me and my allies to purge the Lucavi, but no more can I ignore this. I might not be naïve enough to believe that __**I **__can end this war, but I know that I can try to save you."_

_Delita drew his sword, facing down his old friend. His face was unreadable, even to Cosmos. She remembered Delita's history – the broken heart of a princess who was not, and a bitter and lonely end while all others hailed him the hero of the War of the Lions. _

"_I follow the path I must," he said coldly, levelling the blade._

_The agony in the Zodiac Brave's face was unbearable – and then there was only iron-hard determination. "Then you leave me no choice, my friend…"_

The next Cosmos-sworn warrior was a boy, not much older than the Onion Knight, with short, blond hair that tapered into a longer rat's tail. He travelled to a dream world using the mysterious grimoire, but ultimately became the destroyer of that world. The Slayer of Illusion would have much in common with the fallen Final Aeon and the Fleeting Dream, Cosmos mused as she laid a hand on his forearm.

He'd been a lonely boy, though, and his resolve to reject fantasy for the less favourable reality hadn't made him well-liked among friends.

"_I chose to end the fantasy," the Slayer of Illusion said softly. "I don't think it's that different to what you and your son did in Spira. Make final their fantasy, and slice through the world threads…"_

_The Final Aeon – not yet fallen – grunted at that. "We did what we thought was right. And sentencing everyone to suffer at the hands of another Sin wasn't something I could just grit my teeth and deal with. Never say the great Jecht doesn't care, 'cause I do." The Final Aeon paused then, clenching his hand into a fist uselessly. "More'n I should."_

_The Slayer of Illusion lowered his eyes for a moment. Cosmos recalled that the Slayer had a brother that had loved that 'fantasy'. Doned had spent his life confined to a wheelchair, he would hardly have seen the Slayer of Illusion's choice as an act of mercy. There had been similar reactions from his friends Mewt and Ritz – they had been unwilling to let go of the dream of Ivalice until the Slayer of Illusion had convinced them otherwise. _

_A hard choice, but a choice that the Slayer of Illusion had nonetheless made. She turned her attention from them then, flashing back to her throne in Order's Sanctuary. A pronounced desire to end the cycles… Cosmos had filed that information away for later. Perhaps the Slayer of Illusion could be more useful than she'd thought. _

True to form, in every cycle the Slayer of Illusion had sought to end Cid and Shinryuu's everlasting fantasy of battle. In every cycle, he'd failed, giving the Cosmos-sworn only a short respite in the stone before being called forth to fight once again. A chill ran down Cosmos' spine, and she suddenly drew her hand back to her side.

The only other member of this eternal conflict so committed to ending the wars, was one Emperor Mateus of Palamecia. Cosmos shook her head, trying to rid herself of the chill. The Slayer of Illusions was yet to take such drastic measures – the Final Aeon's corruption was more than proof that the Emperor _had. _

The Traveller was another boy who had experienced different worlds, thanks to the fathomless power of the grimoires. Those tomes lay outside Cosmos' power and understanding, a magic older than Shinryuu and potentially more dangerous than those wielded by Cid. But the Traveller had begun to use this magic, first to travel to an early age of Ivalice, where he was assisted by the Skylord in taking down Illua in holding back the Rift from the worlds. Some records of Ivalice's later years suggest that the Traveller had also ventured forwards and met the infamous heretic, the Zodiac Brave.

Even here, the grimoire was in the Traveller's gloved hands, as Cosmos' own crystal mock-up of the book that had shaped his fate.

_The Fifth War was in the final throes, and only the most steadfast of the Cosmos-sworn and the most heinous of Chaos' chosen remained. The sound of battle rang throughout Order's Sanctuary as the Lunar Knight, the Wild Rose Warrior and the Warrior of Light formed a defensive shield around Cosmos' throne, but the Warrior was nearly staggering under the onslaught of Garland's gigant axe and Makenshi's wisp-quick katana was driving the Wild Rose Warrior to his knees. _

_An alarmed shout from the Lunar Knight drew Cosmos' attention outwards - in the distance, she could see Barthandelus smiling malevolently as he charged his magical onslaught. Her warriors would be ripped apart from the strength of his thanatosian laughter and spells, and after they fell, so would she. Cosmos braced herself, her eyes scanning the icy fields for the lone warrior who had not chosen to come to her defence. She spotted him, a dark form sprinting head on towards where Barthandelus stood, homing for the fal'Cie's blind spot. Pale sunlight seemed to glitter along the edge of the Traveller's sword. _

"_Prepare to meet the Maker, false Goddess of Harmony," Barthandelus announced darkly, but Cosmos's eyes were fixed to the Traveller as he jumped, somersaulting through the air – and slamming his sword deep into the gears at the nape of Barthandelus' mechanical neck. _

"_There's only one way to end this story!" the Traveller yelled, heaving back on his sword. Barthandelus roared in anger as the beam of destructive magic passed over Cosmos and her ragtag shield of warriors. The air seemed to crackle from the near escape with oblivion, but the Traveller looked pleased with himself as he jerked the blade free from Barthandelus. _

_Now morphed to a disturbing fusion of his human and machine forms, Barthandelus turned on the Traveller, bringing his staff down in a forceful strike. The Traveller blocked easily, sparks showering to the icy mud around them. Cosmos could see the frustration building in the fal'Cie's mechanical features. _

"_You are naught but a pawn for a false goddess of death and war, and you will pay for your insolence! You will feel the wrath of the fal'Cie," Barthandelus growled, and his voice was so certain of his power and his knowledge. _

_The Traveller just grinned at the god-machine's words. _

"_Not today I won't!" _

It had been an inspiring fight, a fight that should have given hope and the omen of victory. For all the efforts of the Traveller, the Warrior of Light, the Wild Rose Warrior and the Lunar Knight, the Fifth War devolved into a bloody free-for-all that had seen Garland take on four-to-one odds and come out victorious. A truly frightening individual – he was a remnant from an old civilisation and had been engineered to be a tool of war.

Now, he was fighting for Chaos, the endless battle validating his existence, feeding it, until he _was _an expression of the Cycles himself. His actions created himself, a never-ending loop of destiny.

The Sleeping Lion's stone visage was as proud as his namesake, even if his face was blank of all emotion, only marred by a scar running between his eyes. The Revolver gunblade rested against his shoulder was a show of justified arrogance.

Were the Sleeping Lion fully aware of the implications of his actions in his own world, wrought by Time Compression, ignorance and the wish for something better, Garland's tale as a victim of endless cycle would be one he could emphasize with.

_The music from the dusty piano was soft, the strains of an old and worryingly familiar song filling the air._

"_Let me tell you a story, legendary SeeD. There was once a girl… her name is unimportant. But she lived in a world in which was ruled by fear of sorceresses, and governed by the SeeD who would search for them relentlessly, without a care for those they ruled. It was a grim future for the girl, but not more so than other humans in such times." Ultimecia's clawed fingers moved gracefully across the keys of the piano as she painted a picture of what would be._

"_I didn't come here to listen to your sob story," the Sleeping Lion growled. But in spite of such harsh words, he rested his gunblade against his shoulder. Perhaps he was lulled by the familiar music, but perhaps not. Cosmos had no doubt that he would flash forwards at the slightest hint of trouble, to cleave Ultimecia's head from her shoulders before she'd even finish her incantation._

"_Do not mistake me, SeeD. It is not my intention to excuse my actions, but to provide a… perspective on things you have not the intelligence to observe. One day this girl received the powers of a sorceress, and everything changed for her. She lost everything, her husband, her family. Driven insane by the fear and loathing of those around her, she decided to become just what they feared. She became the Sorceress Ultimecia, destined to fight SeeD. She defeated them, and ruled her world with an iron fist." The words were bitter, angry. She did not regret her actions as Ultimecia – but she wished the transformation had never happened in the first place. _

"_But still she wished for something else, and to prevent her death at the hands of the legendary SeeD. So using Junction Machine Ellone, she travelled to the past and attempted time compression. She was defeated at the last moment by that legendary SeeD, who would then go on to prepare SeeD to stop her in the future. This created a girl, who lived in a world which was ruled by fear of sorceresses, and governed by SeeD. Do you see the pattern, legendary SeeD, Squall Leonheart…?" Ultimecia continued to play, launching into the last refrain of the song. The ability of music had not originally been Ultimecia's, but had belonged to a young woman known as Rinoa. Such was the nature of possession. _

"_You expect me to believe this? That my actions doom you, and your actions doom me?" The Sleeping Lion's voice was cold – it hid his alarm easily. Cosmos could see the thoughts working in his head, trying to reason his way out of this scenario and failing. She saw his grip tighten on his gunblade. _

_She nodded. "You will always rise to the challenge of Sorceress Ultimecia, as the legendary SeeD that __**must **__do so. Just as I will always lash out at an unforgiving world and wish for something different, and so conceive of time compression. We two are the makers of our own suffering," she told him quietly, Julia's long-loved melody fading with those words. "And there is little to be done for it."_


	3. Part Three: Fabula Nova Crystallis

**Rating:** T (violence, character death, language)  
**Word Count:**  
**Spoiler Warning:** Contains spoilers for Dissida, and spoilers for Final Fantasies IX, X (+ X-2), XI, Unlimited, XII and XIII.

**Warnings: **As said above, major character death, blood, violence. Tends to be more meta!Dissidia.

**Notes: **Obviously, many of these things have been Jossed by what we know of Duodecim. Most notably this is Gilgamesh. Portrayed below, Jecht was turned Chaos much earlier than the twelfth war, and Tidus showed up before the events of Duodecim too. Chaos!Tidus was something that I thought of before it was true of Duodecim (but c'mon DLC Shuyin!alt, don't let me down SE). Additionally, we have FFXIIRW/TA2 Vaan, and FFX-2 Yuna.

* * *

**Fabula Nova Crystallis**

The endless space around him was both pitch blackness and eternal whiteness, the extremes seeming to co-exist on the edge of his mind as he trudged across the vast nothingness on the edge of everything.

Gilgamesh wasn't exactly sure what the whole deal between Cosmos, Chaos, Cid and Shinryuu was, but it was astounding that it even corrupted the area between time and space – the Interdimensional Rift. Around these parts, so close to the centre of the conflict, the Rift always seems like some idiot kid had dropped it and tried to pathetically randomly glue together the pieces.

Sorta like how the fragments lands were glued together by Shinryu after each war. But who knew what surviving scum was caught between the fragments, waiting for an escape in the worlds beyond?

Was hardly a matter for the greatest warrior in all the dimensions to worry about, though! With the mighty blade Excalibur (and the much less mighty blade Excalipur, but he wasn't ever going to admit _that_ aloud) Gilgamesh could handle any foe the Rift threw at him. He didn't spend all those years collecting the damn blades for their aesthetic and awesome beauty. He chuckled. Exdeath wouldn't know what hit him, the next time the mighty hero and the evil warlock met on the battlefield!

Gilgamesh smirked as one of his hands found its way to the hilt of Excalibur, the leather of his gloves creaking as he tightened his grip. He had an entire lifetime of pain to pay that bastard tree back with. He'd get his chance. Cosmos had promised him that much.

Blue light flashed. What the hell was that thing? His eyes narrowed. It was flying at an unbelievable speed – Gilgamesh swore and jerked a hand up. He let out a contemptuous laugh as he caught the tiny ice-shard but a fingerspan from his left eye, letting a sneer play across his face as he tossed the shard between the palms of his many hands. Were he a lesser being, Gilgamesh thought, he might have missed it entirely and ended up with it lodged in his face.

The smirk faded as he glanced back down to the sliver of ice. It was no larger than a splinter, but cold enough that he felt his skin begin to num, even through the leather barrier of his gloves. Such coldness and finesse of magic could really only mean one thing.

_Shiva. _

He glanced surreptitiously around the Rift, the world still shifting and contorting from Shinryuu's influence. Was it just his imagination, or had things felt more twisted all of a sudden? No sign of Shiva, though. His eyes flickered down to the ice shard in the palm of his hand. A message then. A message from Shiva, who had been dispatched to watch the tear in space and time that Shinryuu had made his home.

Only one thing for it. Gilgamesh grunted, closing his hand in a fist around the freezing crystal, feeling the cold spread through his limb. Hoarfrost began to form, dusted over the top of his knuckles. The ice shard shattered under the strength of his grip, releasing the message held within. It floated to the surface of his mind, hazy and warped, but there was no mistaking what it meant.

He swore and opened his hand, letting the remaining dewdrops run down his fingers and fall to the shifting darkness at his feet.

Of course it would be bad news. Shiva was always full of bad news. Couldn't she ever just invite him to a party? But no, it was always "Help us, Gilgamesh", "Go over there, Gilgamesh", "Tell Cosmos this, Gilgamesh". He rolled his eyes.

_The beast stirs in the rip beyond time. Be ready. _

Gilgamesh shouldered his replica Excalibur. Time for just one more world, if he was quick. Just one more warrior to fetch, before the Fourteenth War began the damned cycle once more. And this guy? He'd be a real doozy, too. Gilgamesh grinned as the Rift opened before him.

…

Cosmos sighed and moved on from the stone likeness of the Sleeping Lion, and onto the next. This statue was much shorter than the others, clasping a dagger in each and the end of his tail wrapped around an orange crystal.

The Angel of Death was a being of contradictions. The genome was an insufferable flirt, a member of the Tantalus troupe and a thief with a heart of gold. He'd not needed an iron-clad reason to fight for Cosmos in her war – after being reassured that time would not pass for him while he fought, he'd simply told her that he didn't need a reason to help out. Quick to smile and joke around, the Angel of Death was always popular company with the Adventurer, the Fleeting Dream and the Skylord.

Despite this inherent goodness in his soul, like the Godslayer, the Angel of Death had the potential to force the life of an entire planet to wink out, in but a surge of his latent power. As of yet, such power had yet to be demonstrated, though Cosmos remained cautious, her failure to save the Godslayer always fresh in her mind.

The Angel of Death's flirtatious ways and sticky fingers often got him into trouble with the pricklier members of the Cosmos-sworn – or with those warriors that had previously learned to be more wary.

"_Drop the wallet, you little creep! Earn your own gil, don't take mine!" the Hero yelped, as he caught the Angel of Death's hand in the middle of covertly picking his pocket. Evidently, the Hero had experience when it came to pickpockets and thieves, Cosmos noted with a small smile. _

"_Yeah, but that's hardly sporting, right?" the Angel of Death flashed the Hero a grin, jerking his thumb in the Gunslinger's direction. "Tell you what. Tell me the name of the beautiful lady over there, and I'll let you keep your gil this time."_

_Nearby, Cosmos saw the Gunslinger shake her head wearily, the Sleeping Lion bury his face in his palm, while the Adventurer just rolled his eyes. This obviously wasn't the first time the Angel of Death had tried this trick, then. Perhaps his… efforts at gaining the 'friendship' of the Godslayer, the Gunslinger and the World's Enemy were beginning to wear thin on his comrades. _

"_Aww, c'mon. Fair trade is a fair trade, no pun intended. I promise I'll be gentle with her-" the Angel of Death broke off with a sudden yelp, grabbing his tail and holding it protectively against his chest. "Hey, watch where you're standing, you big lug! That thing's still attached!" _

_The Hero was grinning as he looked over to the Adventurer. "Yo, Bartz, try to take better care of your pet monkey next time, or I'm not gonna be so nice. You got that?"_

"_Who the hell are you__calling a monkey, blockhead?" the Angel of Death growled as he launched himself at the Hero, leap-frogging onto his shoulders and scrubbing his knuckle over the Hero's scalp in a painful-looking noogie. It quickly escalated into a scuffle – Cosmos had stepped in before either resorted to weaponry, but she did make the snap decision to send each party to opposite sides of the land to let them cool off. _

That decision no longer seemed so wise when the Gunslinger and the Zodiac Brave dragged themselves into the base camp, covered in dust and ash, and splattered with blood that was not theirs. The Angel of Death was the first on the scene to help them back to the base, nearly carrying the Gunslinger when her energy finally gave out.

The news they had brought had been grim. The Hero had been caught on the cliffs of Midgar in a confrontation with Cloud of Darkness, in an effort to cover the Gunslinger and the Zodiac Brave's retreat. A surprise attack, Cosmos knew. But a deadly attack, nonetheless.

The Angel of Death took the news of the Hero's death harder than Cosmos would have guessed.

_The tent was tiny and cramped, and the Angel of Death was stretched out on the thin mattress, his hands linked behind his head. He was staring at the canvass ceiling, not even seeming to blink. She seated herself on the low stool beside his bed. Cosmos let the minutes stretch by – he knew she was there. He just wasn't willing to acknowledge her yet. Finally, the Angel of Death sighed. _

"_I hate… I hate having a lady see me like this. Can we talk another time, Cosmos?" His voice had a peculiar catch to it. The Angel of Death was hurting. She could not leave one of her warriors in anguish, even if they'd loathe her for it. _

"_I believed that you did not get along with Zack," she said, choosing her words very carefully. One misstep and she could render another warrior useless in this war. "Was I perhaps wrong, Zidane?"_

_The Angel of Death closed his eyes for a moment, a sad smile coming to his lips. "We had a little in common, I guess."_

_There was another long moment of silence, as he tried to gather his thoughts. Cosmos knew better than to rush him. Grief for the fallen was almost like an old friend to her, but it was never any easier to lose them._

"_That day… before he left for the cliffs, we talked. Said he had a girl waiting back home, that he promised her that he'd come back. He swore that this time, he'd fulfil his promise and make it, finish the war. Him dying, it makes me think, you know? That, maybe, there isn't an end."_

_Cosmos was very careful not to let any emotion show on her face. "I see."_

"_I can't stop thinking about it all. That maybe even if we win, it's never going to be over. Maybe we're stuck here forever, that we're never going to see those we left behind ever again. Will I ever make it back to the promised place? Will I ever see her again, even if we end Chaos?"_

_Cosmos didn't have the heart to tell him the truth. Instead, she laid a gentle hand on the Angel of Death's shoulder for a moment, before fleeing to the quiet safety of Order's Sanctuary. _

As the wars grew in number, her warriors had become frighteningly aware of their situation – enough so that she had been forced to actively repress the more violent and brutal memories as they surfaced. Recollections of the loss of comrades, and memories of one's own death, were hardly good for troop morale. It was a mercy, to be only able to recall the ghost of a memory, a gut feeling. That was what she told herself, to soothe her lingering doubts, anyway.

Cosmos' heart tightened painfully as she moved on. The next statue was naught but charred rubble and twisted metal, the only remains of a corrupted warrior. The destruction wrought by the Godslayer had proven that a warrior of Cosmos could be controlled, if only for the space of a war. Until the Final Aeon's fall, Cosmos had not believed that Chaos could permanently take one of her warriors as his pawn.

The Final Aeon had been a raucous and rough man, lightning-quick to anger and just as fast to laugh again. He was driven to win and his mantra claimed he was the best at what he did. The Final Aeon was man that seemed unaffected by the carnage around him, but yet he was said to have been just a sports hero from an illusory world. Perhaps he just considered it all part of his 'contract', that when the lands reformed and Shinryuu raised her dead again, the great game would begin anew.

Perhaps that had been why he'd remained so stable, then.

In spite of his roughness, the Final Aeon had a gentle side that always stood up and fought for what he considered right. Cosmos closed her eyes, remembering a fateful encounter with Golbez. In hindsight, she believed that it had shaped the Final Aeon's actions in all the wars that followed.

_The Final Aeon stood on the edge of the ruined blitzball arena, muscular arms crossed in front of his chest, massive blade thrust into the stone and cement to his right. Straight-backed, arrogant, powerful – he was the best at what he did, and never shied from getting his hands dirty. Fearless. The Final Aeon would have seemed completely calm, had Cosmos not been witness to the riot of rage and indignation battling for supremacy in his mind. _

_There was a crackle of dark lightning, the smell of ozone and the sound of metal armour clanking together as Golbez flashed into existence beside the Final Aeon. Cosmos saw the Final Aeon's jaw tighten. _

"_You… requested my presence," Golbez said, without preamble. "Why?"_

_The Final Aeon sighed, letting his arms fall to his sided as he cracked his neck, and then cracked the knuckles on each of his hands. A dangerous sign. _

"_See, I know this guy. Says some interesting stuff, too." The Final Aeon grinned savagely at that, rolling his shoulders another couple of times. "Says he's your little brother, if you could believe a big guy like you could be related to a kid like that." _

"…_your information is correct," Golbez murmured, watching the Final Aeon warily. He'd always been good at quick character studies, and Cosmos did not doubt that he was starting to sense the danger in the air._

"_Then there's just one__thing I wanna know!" The Final Aeon wrenched his blade free of solid stone, levelling the wicked point at Golbez. "Why the hell are you fighting the only family you got left? You really buying into Chaos' game? Do ya __**really **__think that guy is going to give you what you want? Chaos is usin' you like a pawn against Cecil!" He spat off to the side. "I'd never let a guy like that use me."_

_The air seemed to spark around Golbez – the dark warlock was almost burning with fury and raw magic, now. _

"_I do not expect a crude and drunken brute to understand what I hope to achieve," Golbez growled, seeming to grow another few feet in his anger. _

_The Final Aeon wasn't cowed – if anything, Golbez's rage drove him onwards. "From where __**I'm **__standin', there ain't much to get! He's your goddamn brother!" _

"_I oppose Cecil __**because **__he is my brother. I make him stronger, more able to defeat Chaos with each breath I take as his eternal opponent in this war! Because of my past actions, I can never resist Chaos' call to my soul, but that will never mean that I do not help Cecil in the ways that I can."_

_The Final Aeon growled under his breath, his frustration mounting. "You Chaos idiots never make any damn sense! Shut the hell up and fight me, 'cause I got a lot of rage I wanna take out on you!"_

Perhaps the Final Aeon took more of Golbez's words to heart than he'd realized, because he had taken a very similar stance against his son following his corruption in the Ninth War. In an effort to get the Fleeting Dream to stand up and fight back, the Final Aeon taunted his son to the point of hatred.

The Final Aeon's son was an upbeat and positive youth, and he could be ignorant and obnoxious at the best of times. Cosmos looked up at his stone visage, at the ragged blitz uniform and blue, crystal sword. How she could look this young man in the eyes, after all she'd done to him?

Brought into the cycles as an to answer his father's defection, the Fleeting Dream was one of those young men that Cosmos had used ruthlessly as a form of psychological warfare. If the Final Aeon would turn away from her, and buy into Chaos' promises to remake the worlds as his pawns desired, then Cosmos would use his son – his entire reason for defecting – against him.

Even despite her blatant use of him, the Fleeting Dream had become a valued part of her warriors. He smiled even in the face of despair, and did his best to keep the hopes of his comrades alive, but that burning hatred for his father remained something that troubled her…

_The Fleeting Dream slammed the tip of the Brotherhood into the earth, using the sword to lever himself to his feet. To Cosmos, it looked like he'd dislocated a shoulder and cracked a few ribs, but still he forced himself to stand. Blood had trickled down his forehead from a cut in his hairline, but despite his injuries, he was scowling, his lips drawn back in a snarl. _

"_Don't you…" He gasped as his knee gave out, sending him sprawling in the dust. "Don't you dare run away from me, old man! I'm… I'm not done with you yet!"_

_The Final Aeon shouldered his huge sword with a grunt, not even looking at his son as he began to walk away. "Not done? You can't even stand! Don't make me come over there an knock you on your ass again, boy."_

_The casual dismissal seemed to enrage the Fleeting Dream even more as he staggered to his feet. The Brotherhood dragged on the ground behind him as he lurched forwards. "I can still fight you!"_

_Cosmos saw the Final Aeon smile – it was a smile without malice. Might it even have been a smile that was proud, even just a little? He kept walking, as if unable to hear the stumbles and curses following along behind him._

_A few steps later, and the Fleeting Dream's weakening knees tumbled him to the earth. He lay there for a moment, groaning, his chest heaving shallowly for air. Pain had won out over his hated, this time. But one day, perhaps, things would be different. Cosmos could see the silent promise in his eyes. One day, the Fleeting Dream would finish this. _

"…_I hate you," the Fleeting Dream whispered, blinking furiously as tears – of pain, anger, shame – threatened to fall. _

_The scarred man turned then, his smirk nothing but a show of arrogance, and looked his son in the eyes. "What was that? You gotta speak __**louder**__, kiddo. Like a man."_

_The Fleeting Dream lowered his eyes, clenching his teeth. He was just a kid in his father's eyes, no matter how he'd grown, how powerful and skilled he'd become. Nothing could change that, and it haunted him every time they crossed paths. The Final Aeon grunted at his silence, gave a lazy shrug, and left the Fleeting Dream sitting in the dust. _

_The simmering anger and determination in the Fleeting Dream's eyes gave Cosmos pause as she moved to comfort her wounded warrior. She shivered. No, it wasn't the determination to grow stronger and put an end to everything that chilled her so. It was that hint of hidden darkness in his blue eyes that made her wonder. Was it truly right, to let things go on as they were? _

Things eventually came to a head, and when they did, Cosmos regretted that she'd not interfered earlier. Even more, she regretted that it was the Gunslinger, somebody who was so dear to the Fleeting Dream and the Final Aeon, that had been forced to pay the toll.

Here, while she was imbued with the powers of instantaneous class-changing and the ability to summon the souls of the dead in battle, she was sealed away as a gunner.

The Gunslinger had convened with dead spirits, summoned monsters and struck down religions. She'd sent Seymour, she'd defeated Sin and in the end, she'd reunited the factions of Spira and turned the rogue spirit Shuyin from the path of destruction – all because it was what she believed was right.

Hope over despair, and redemption over sacrifice. That was what the Gunslinger had always believed in.

So when the darkness in the Fleeting Dream was finally exploited by the Emperor, the Gunslinger had rejected the notion of sacrificing the man she loved.

"_Do it!" the Wild Rose Warrior's voice was strained from the effort of holding the corrupted Fleeting Dream back, his arms locked around the other boy's shoulders. It took every ounce of energy the Wild Rose Warrior had to stop the Fleeting Dream – no, he was nothing but a nightmare – from advancing further towards the glowing keyboard that acted as the control panels to Vegnagun. The Lunar Knight lay a few feet away, slowly bleeding out from where the nightmare had run him through with the Brotherhood. _

_Before them, her guns trained on the nightmare's head, was the Gunslinger. _

"_Purge this repulsive world…" the nightmare whispered hoarsely, and he levelled his gaze at where Cosmos stood. There was nothing but darkness and despair in those eyes. Cosmos' breath hitched as she remembered. No. This darkness didn't only originate from Emperor Mateus of Palamecia, but was as much a part of the Fleeting Dream as his hate towards his father. Shuyin. How could she have overlooked a link so obvious, so exploitable…? _

_The Wild Rose Warrior was faltering now, as the nightmare took one inexorable step after another towards the controls of Vegnagun. The Gunslinger raised her Tiny Bee guns again, but her eyes looked around desperately, searching for anything that could help her save him. Cosmos was unable to interfere, and at this late stage of the war, there was nothing to be done for the lost Fleeting Dream._

"_Yuna!" the Wild Rose Warrior begged her, his feet sliding across the ground as the nightmare forced himself forwards another step. "You must do this!"_

"_But I-" The Tiny Bee pistols were trembling slightly, and Cosmos saw the Gunslinger swallow thickly. _

_The Wild Rose Warrior cursed and tightened his grip on the nightmare. "I will __**not**__ let the Emperor force another of my brothers into darkness! Not this time!"_

"_No." The refusal rang out in the silent Farplane Glen. In that instant, Shuyin broke free from the Wild Rose Warrior's hold and turned on them with a feral roar._

While both the Gunslinger and the Wild Rose Warrior had survived their battle with the nightmare, it remained a confrontation that burned in Cosmos' mind. A tragic end to the Tenth War, indeed.

The soul of next man in the procession of the dead, was known to her as the Black Wind. Clad in a long cloak, he was a man that looked to be nothing more than a worldless drifter, his home lost, his entire race wiped out. But this drifter had fought one of Chaos' avatars directly. For Chaos, Cosmos had learned from her Valkyrie, had been responsible for the genocide of the Unlimited species.

While generally silent and solemn, Cosmos had once heard it be said, that the calmest pools ran the deepest. Such was the case with the Black Wind. His hidden, towering rage, over the extinction of his world and his people, was reserved for his battles with Chaos, and any of Chaos' pawns that chose to stand in his way. Gruff, practical, and nigh unapproachable, it was the Black Wind's skills with the golden, mechanical weapon equipped to his arm that made him a force to be reckoned with.

_The Black Wind had been injured by Valefor's Energy Beam attack, falling to one knee, his side seared with non-elemental burns. Even so, it had been a steep price for his opponent, and the aeon collapsed to the ground, melting away into nothing but a swarm of pyreflies. While there wasn't a lot a handgun could do against a fiend of Seymour Guado's power, the Black Wind was holding his own. Somehow._

_Cosmos looked to the frozen machine attached to the Black Wind's arm, hoping, praying that it would see fit to save its wielder's life one last time. _

_It seemed to shift. _

_The Black Wind's eye darted to the machine, and then to where Seymour stood before him. The Black Wind forced himself to his feet, even if his stance was a little unsteady. Seymour chuckled darkly, his rod already moving in the complicated dance of the next summoning ritual. _

"_Soil is my power! The Magun has thawed!" he told Seymour, in a stronger voice than before. His wounds seemed forgotten as the machine began to move again, parts shifting and sliding to reveal a demon gun with a heart of blackest night at its core. _

_The Magun, a machine that was powered by Soil, by the souls of those devoured by Chaos. It was a marvellous but tragic machine, and with it the Black Wind could stand as an equal summoner to a maester such as Seymour, __**would **__stand against Chaos!_

_Seymour seemed to frown, but did not pause in his summoning rites. _

_The Black Wind thrust a finger towards Chaos' summoner, a long-dormant fire seeming to spark into life in that one visible eye of his. Cosmos felt a shiver at the forbidden power surging to life in the golden gun on his arm now. The black heart seemed to beat faster._

"_The Soil Charge Triad to use on you has been decided!" the Black Wind announced as the chambers of the Magun opened to accept the Triad. He withdrew a trio of Soil-bullets from his belt. Dull black, a brilliant blue, a gleaming gold. Cosmos stared, and she wondered what game that the Black Wind was playing at. That combination could only lead to… Perhaps the Black Wind knew Seymour better than she had believed._

"_That which falls into infinite darkness… Silent Black! One that hates the agony of lament… Pain Blue! And finally… To restrain all things, Chain Gold!" _

_The skies split apart as Seymour's summoning dragged the aeon Bahamut down from the heavens. There was not much time for the Black Wind to finish his gambit. But if it worked…_

_The wind began to howl as Bahamut swooped in low. The Black Wind stretched the Magun out with a roar. _

"_**Resonate**__! I summon thee, ANIMA!"_

_There was a bang, the sight of three coloured lights condensing – and then the Black Wind's version of Anima screeched and swiped Bahamut off to the side with a gnarled hand. Seymour's face contorted in fury as he realized who the Black Wind had summoned into the fight. Anima, the aeon created by the sacrifice of Seymour's mother. Quite a blow, indeed. _

_Bahamut readied himself again, with a powerful bellow that seemed to quake the world. _

"_You would stand against me too, Anima?" Seymour was shaking with his anger. He closed his eyes for a moment. "Then you will die a traitor."_

The next statue was the shortest of those Cosmos called her own – and in the presence of warriors such as the Onion Knight and the Angel of Death, this was no small feat. The Witch was a professor that hailed from the Federation of Windhurst, and was an incredibly gifted black mage. For all her strength, in her arrogance the Witch had always skated the fine line between Order and Discord, and Cosmos had to wonder why she'd consented to serving Harmony at all.

Whatever the Valkyrie had said to her, to convince her to join the side of Order, so far it had been enough to have kept the Witch on side.

In spite of her arrogant and questionable ways, it was clear that the Witch had formed valuable bonds with the other Cosmos-sworn. As rocky as their friendship had been, she'd been fondly tolerant of the Skylord.

_The floating Sky Fortress Bahamut shook with the force of an explosion. Cosmos watched as the Chaos-damned Vayne looked up in surprise, his eyes troubled as he scanned the screens for damage reports. It had not been long ago that Vayne had fought the Skylord here. In the end, Vayne had prevailed, finishing the Skylord off, and proclaiming him as naught but a rebel that stood in the path of true freedom._

_Vayne had expected the fiasco to have ended, following the Skylord's defeat. He'd underestimated one very important factor, however._

"_Something has taken out the main engine…" Vayne murmured to himself. The Sky Fortress shuddered again, beginning to tilt at a dangerous angle. "And the thrusters…"_

_That high above ground, the resulting impact would render the Sky Fortress useless, and would likely kill any on board. Cosmos watched Vayne curse and try to reengage the thrusters, and then begin to make his way towards the escape ship located just outside the command centre. She closed her eyes, and she could feel one of her warriors on board, moving at a fantastic speed from where she knew the Sky Fortress' engine room was…_

_The Witch shot into view, her speed aided by a carefully controlled whirlwind that propelled her through the fortress' corridors. The magical tornado died down as the Witch allowed herself to drop from its grasp. She looked up, her eyes stony. Cosmos had often wondered what drove the Witch to fight for the side of Order. She had supposed, once, that it was naught but pride and ego that kept the Witch here._

"_Shantotto. Then it was you, who has damaged my airship?" Vayne's voice was calm, confident in spite of the fact that his Sky Fortress was crashing down, all thanks to the tarutaru mage before him. The Witch just laughed at the informal way in which he addressed her, a sound that seemed even more chilling than normal. _

"_I've come to the end of my deliberation – this night shall end with your incineration!"_

"_You believe that you can best me, witch? The boy stood in the way of an end to all of this! Why do you fight for Cosmos, when we are mere pawns in a game of gods?"_

"_This time I fight, not just for Cosmos, but what is right. Retribution. Absolution." The Witch suddenly smiled, gesturing to Vayne. A pillar of lightning erupted where Vayne had been standing but a second ago. "Execution." _

_It was vengeance for the fallen Skylord, though the Witch would never admit to such feelings of camaraderie with the other Cosmos-sworn. _

By the end of the furious battle, Shantotto had taken out Vayne, and had survived the explosion as the Sky Fortress had hit the ground. Cosmos smiled slightly. The Witch gone on to defeat the last dregs of Chaos' warriors, before taking on the God of Discord alone. She'd won – a frightening woman, indeed. Since that war, however, Cosmos had been content to let the Witch's soul rest.

The Skylord had started out simply, Cosmos noted as she moved onwards, to where the statue of the skypirate stood. He had been naught but a child living on the streets, unimpressive and without the links to greatness that many of her other warriors possessed. He was no prince, mystical warrior, chosen one, knight or sports star – he was just a youth from the slums.

It was through mere chance that he found himself involved in the battle for Dalmasca, and that first adventure had only spurred him on to greatness. He'd risen from being an angry, powerless civilian to a famous and daring skypirate, and lived the life he had always dreamed of.

But because of that success, he'd been forced into these wars, to fight for his freedom again and again. The Skylord never forgot his roots, however – of fighting against the control of an outside oppressor. Perhaps that had been why he'd been so angered by what Kefka had done to the Godslayer.

_The Skylord rolled free from the burning wreckage of his Galbana airship, coughing blood and clutching at his broken ribs. The crash had hurt him badly, and he could no longer stand under his own willpower. Cosmos looked into the sea of fire that surrounded him. Kefka's pawn had been disabled, and thus a great blow had been struck against Chaos, but the danger was far from over._

_The Godslayer and the Skylord had been friends before her defection to Chaos this war, and it had been in the name of that bond that he'd infiltrated Kefka's seat of power. The Godslayer had staved off Kefka's influence over her mind for just long enough, giving him just an instant to free her from Kefka's grip. His hands slick with her blood, he'd stayed with her until the end. His heart was heavy, but she was smiling as she died. _

_Kefka had known of the Godslayer's death in the instant it had occurred, and so the wretched god had found them. _

_In such close quarters, the Skylord had stood no chance. As the young man crawled away from the wreckage, lightheaded from smoke inhalation and pain, he looked up to see a dark figure walking through the wildfire that raged around him. Cosmos felt the Skylord's sudden spike of fear, as clearly as if it were her own._

"_How __**dare **__you ruin my game! The girl was mine! All mine!" Kefka roared as he burst from the flames, a blast of magic smashing the Skylord back into the twisted shell of the Galbana. "I will flay you __**alive**__ for this!"_

_The Skylord coughed as braced himself against the old airship, blood running down his face from a scalp wound, from between his lips. _

"_Bring it," the young man spat, his body screaming in agony as he forced himself to sink into a battle stance. One last time, he'd fight for what he believed was right. "I'll kick your bony ass for what you did to Terra!"_

The World's Enemy had always been a reluctant warrior. Cosmos knew that she'd not been fond of the idea of serving under another god, of being bound to a futile and brutal existence. By all logic, the World's Enemy should have declined the Valkyrie's bargain, but something in her had relented. Perhaps he'd told her that if she wouldn't fight for Cosmos, there would be another of her group that would.

No matter what the nature of their bargain, the World's Enemy had done her duty, no matter her personal opinion of the Goddess.

Her likeness to the Cloudy Wolf had earned her friends – but it had also earned her enemies. Among those that loathed her, was the deranged swordsman Sephiroth. Angered by her close resemblance to his sworn enemy, the ignorant traitor that he longed to destroy, Sephiroth had attacked her on sight. When it became clear that the Cloudy Wolf and the World's Enemy did _not _have similar weaknesses of the time, it had only spurred Sephiroth onwards.

He'd set out to break her.

_The World's Enemy had been pinned to stone. She'd been run completely through by the Masamune's infinitely sharp blade, pierced through her chest – just shy of the l'Cie brand she'd so despised. Blood bubbled between her lips as she clawed at the blade, coughing the blood up, choking on it. At the far end of the blade, Sephiroth was smiling, barely looking fazed by the intense battle he and the World's Enemy had just shared. Of course, Cosmos realized. All along, Sephiroth had been toying with her. _

_As if also struck by that same revelation, the World's Enemy spat blood at him. _

"_Pathetic, is it not?" Sephiroth asked her in a low voice, that cold smile still on his lips as he watched her struggle. "Always dandling on a fal'Cie's whim, forced to fight for the sake of a… Focus, was it not? In the end, you really are no better than Cloud. Just a helpless pawn."_

"_I fight my Focus," the World's Enemy ground out between her clenched teeth, still choking on her own blood. Cosmos could feel her fading, could see the darkness eating at the edges of her vision._

"_And you fail every time." Sephiroth's green eyes were locked onto her face, seeming to be seeking something. "Weakness, helplessness, the inability to do what must be done. Is that who you are? Or is Claire closer to who you are than you ever realized?"_

_Cosmos felt the World's Enemy shudder at the name, at the twisted truths and the half-lies. Sephiroth had done his homework on the World's Enemy, then. _

"_You lost your sister, you lost your comrades, you lost your sanity and humanity, and then you lost Cocoon. You fight to save others, but you have not the power to save yourself! Isn't that right, Claire?"_

_The World's Enemy clenched her fist, slamming it against the concrete slab behind her. She was still refusing to give in, to give Sephiroth the satisfaction of breaking her mind. But the resistance held by just a hair, though. It wavered, so close to breaking. _

"_Allow me to free you of your… insidious weakness. To carve it from your body." Sephiroth twisted Masamune within the World's Enemy, and she couldn't help but scream. _

* * *

Death, destruction, weakness and suffering. Memories that would scar and torture for eternity. It was the only outcome of these pointless cycles, and the knowledge of all her warriors had suffered still filled Cosmos with bitterness. There was no end to it in sight, no matter how hard her warriors fought, how she poured herself into finding that eternal rest.

Cosmos had been so certain that her gambit during the Thirteenth War would end it all. In destroying two gods in the once cycle, she'd hoped that somehow, her warriors would find a way to end it. But Shinryuu had paid no heed to her sacrifices, no mind to Chaos' agony and so they continued their endless dance, neither gaining, neither relenting.

Her warriors still lingered in Valhalla, Shinryuu still bound them to the stone, and Cosmos knew that Chaos still waited.

Eternity seemed to stretch before her.

The light of the hall flickered for an instant, the flaming torches lining the room guttering out for a moment as the Rift opened beside her. Cosmos felt the threads of magic stir against her own power, and she looked up in time to see Gilgamesh warp into existence. There was something new, a sword clenched in one of his many hands, and there was a burning excitement radiating from him. Cosmos nodded to herself, closing her eyes.

She already knew what this visit would be about.

Gilgamesh didn't bother with any deference, and instead he told her,

"Got a message from Shiva. Says old dragon-breath is stirring, so get ready." From behind his white face paint, Gilgamesh grinned. The prospect of going into battle always excited him. "Buck up, y'Godliness. You got a war to win!"

She held up a hand to stay him, and she looked down at the row of the dead. Her warriors, her charges, and it was her fault. Another war, and for what? Cid's research? Shinryuu's hunger for infinite death?

"Nothing has changed," Cosmos said, quietly. "What reason is there to believe that this time, they can end it?"

Gilgamesh belted out a roar of laughter, a powerful reaction that always startled her. "You still hung up about that?"

"Always."

"Hmph. You'll give yourself wrinkles if you keep frowning like that," Gilgamesh grunted, and he walked away from her, his red cloak fluttering behind him, until he reached the empty pedestals following the World's Enemy. He touched the empty nameplate with one of his huge hands, before turning back to Cosmos.

"Besides. You think that these kids –" Gilgamesh gestured to the row of the dead and sealed. "-would turn their back on you, while justice has still gotta be done? I dunno about you, but I don't see a guy like Bartz, Squall or Firion just turning tail and running. That's why they're the _chosen,_ you should know this already!

"Someday, this cycle will break, Shinryuu will stop it with the Frankenstein shit and we'll get to go home. But 'til then, you just gotta do your _best _by the kids. That's all you can do!" Gilgamesh rubbed the back of his neck with one of his hands, as if distracting himself from embarrassment.

"Gilgamesh." Cosmos smiled, laying a hand against his shoulder as she joined him at the empty pedestal. That was the heart that had reached out for her in the darkness of the Void, that had looked back on his life and wanted to do better.

He truly _was _a presence that she welcomed, no matter his foolish posturing and bragging.

"Aww, shucks y'Godliness. But before you pick your chosen for this war, I got a new guy for you to try out." Gilgamesh was smirking again, and he twirled that new sword of his about, before offering the hilt to her. It was a large blade, slightly curved, with some manner of machinery attached to it.

Cosmos looked down at it, feeling reluctant to accept it. Another warrior to join the damned. Was that what she desired?

"What is his name?" she asked, unable to help herself. Though she didn't wish to condemn another, the souls of her chosen fascinated her. The strength of their light, their desire to fight for good – but in knowing this new warrior, there would be no turning back.

"You'll find out, Cosmos."

She accepted the blade gravely, and in that moment she knew everything about this new soul. His life, his loves, his friends and his death. His name rang clear in her mind, as if resonating from crystal.

_Noctis Lucius Caelum. _

The Sleeping Prince.

* * *

And that, as they say, is that. Hope everyone enjoyed this nostalgia trip down Final Fantasy lane. ((dusts off hands))

Thanks for those who read this!

The Warrior of Light as himself, **Firion **as the Wild Rose Warrior, **Luneth **as the Onion Knight, **Cecil Harvey** as the Lunar Knight, **Ceodore Harvey** as the Star Son, **Bartz Klauser **as the Adventurer, **Terra Branford** as the Godslayer (shoutout to DoctorBurrito's fic, the Cosmos Report), **Benjamin **as the False Champion, **Verdot **as the Turk, **Zack Fair** as the Hero, **Cloud Strife** as the Cloudy Wolf (this ended up as the official name of his AC alt), **Vincent Valentine** as the Chaotic Harbinger, **Ramza Beoulve** as the Zodiac Brave,** Marche**** Radiuju **as the Slayer of Illusion, **Luso Clemens** as the Traveller, **Squall Leonheart** as the Sleeping Lion, **Zidane Tribal** as the Angel of Death, **Jecht **as the Final Aeon, **Tidus **as the Fleeting Dream (this ended up as the official name of Tidus' shirtless alt), **Yuna **as the Gunslinger, **Shantotto **as the Witch, **Vaan **as the Skylord, and then **Lightning **as the World's Enemy.


End file.
